


HANDS (actions speak louder than words)

by JollytheSad



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: I have no idea where this came from, Multi, i was listening to Jaymes Young and bam, spoilers to seasons 1 and 2, this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollytheSad/pseuds/JollytheSad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their hands and things they did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HANDS (actions speak louder than words)

**Author's Note:**

> This has no beta and I have no idea what this is. Or why did this happen. I'm sorry.  
> Also I read apparently way too many fics in which Raven's kink is choking hence the subtle hint ?? I really don't know. Sorry again.

After losing her legs, Raven values her hands very much. (She values her head the most because she's a fucking genius.)

Her hands are skilled. She can bring fantasies to life. They're delicate and careful, visibly stained with oil and not so much with death. Calloused and scarred. She runs them over her hair, greasing it, when she's figuring out how to fix whatever she's working on. Clenches them in joy when she does and the thing works.

Raven's hands are the coldest. Bellamy has taken on to holding them in his to warm them up.

 

Bellamy. His hands are large, so large that one can cover almost the whole expanse of Raven's stomach. And warm, as warm as his kind eyes, and _deadly_. He has killed a man with the violent press of his fingers, same fingers he presses against Raven's throat as she gasps. (Killed more with a motion as inconspicuous as pulling the trigger.)

 

They don't talk about Clarke. Clarke with her small hands that used to be so soft and clean. Hands that spent hours upon hours of making art, hands that saved lives. Took them, later on. Clarke with dirt, dead skin and blood underneath her fingernails. Blood of the dead and sometimes of those _she_ has killed.

 

Bellamy takes Raven's hands at midnight when she's still awake and in her workshop. Her eyes hurting and she can't focus at all but she needs to fix this, _Bell, I need to fix this_. He takes the radio out of her hands and wraps her up in his arms and she's okay, _it's okay_. His hand is in her hair and the other one on her back and it doesn't hurt. She cries anyway and he carries her into his bed instead of hers.

They don't talk about the empty space next to them, the fucking black hole inside of each of them, they _don't_ talk. And yet they know, they understand and it's beautiful in the same way it is tragic. 

 

Bellamy sometimes dreams of Clarke and her hands. Dreams of the night she killed Atom, her voice a soothing hum. The day she held a gun for the first time while he taught her how to shoot it. (He wishes he never had to.) Of the night she pulled the lever and killed an entire civilisation while he held her tiny hand in his. He wakes up covered in cold sweat and some nights he's crying. 

 

Raven sometimes dreams of Clarke and her hands, too. She dreams of the hurricane and Clarke's hands pulling the poisoned knife out of Finn. She dreams of the night she plunged a knife _inside_ of Finn, leaving her hands red, so terribly red. She wakes up crying and some nights she screams.

 

Clarke sometimes dreams of them. She dreams of Bellamy and the reassuring squeeze of his hand that is so large it wraps all around her arm. She dreams of Raven's long fingers holding bullets. Dreams of Bellamy holding a gun, Raven holding a gun, she dreams of her own hand holding the lever. She wakes up with a jolt and she _cannot_ breath. 

She won't talk about it.


End file.
